


Disclosure

by Cyndi



Series: Autism isn't a tragedy! [4]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Alcoholism, Angst, Autism, Autism Acceptance, Autism Spectrum, Autistic, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Groot - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Neurodiversity, Past Sexual Abuse, Rocket and Groot, actuallyautistic, autistic Groot, autistic headcanon, autistic!Groot, introspective, nonverbal autistic!Groot, nonverbal-autistic!Groot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyndi/pseuds/Cyndi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Limits are not shameful. </p><p>Groot sees Quill experience frightening symptoms related to an undisclosed medical condition. Quill asks Groot not to tell anyone about what he saw. Groot, being the selfless sweetheart that he is, goes on a solo journey into the city to retrieve Quill’s medicine because he doesn’t want to spill the secret. In doing so, he comes face to face with his mental and physical limits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> I got the itch to write more autistic!Groot after playing with a headcanon I have for Quill. Well, it ended up taking Groot on a little adventure! As always, this fic doesn't speak for all autistic people because we're all unique in how it affects us.
> 
> Secondary note: All the medications except one are made-up and any resemblance to actual medications is purely coincidental. Anyone who has to use the real one will likely recognize it. For the record, I do not have the condition the medicine is made for, but I know someone who does and used their word-for-word description of how it feels.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR AUTISTIC READERS: There is mention of abusive ABA-like therapy.
> 
> Btw, I've named this series of fics **Autism Isn't A Tragedy!** (AIATverse for short.) But you already know that if you're reading this on AO3. FFdotnet doesn't yet have a series feature.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> * * * EDIT in 2017: Fixed some wording to be past tense instead of present tense due to the events of GOTG 2. * * *

_"Got no reason,_  
_got no shame,_  
_got no family I can blame._  
_Just don't let me disappear!_  
_I'mma tell you everything..."_

\--One Republic, "Secrets"

.o

"Shower one-oh-one," Rocket's voice echoed off the white tiles of the bathroom, "Groot and I got this down to a routine, so pay attention."

"I'm all eyes and ears," Quill replied from his position by the sink. He'd divested himself of his leather jacket and rolled up the long sleeves of his gray shirt.

Once again they were all checked in to the Tri-Sun Hotel and Casino on Xandar. At the moment they occupied the same bathroom Groot used when Rocket's drinking habit landed him in the hospital. Quill got a voucher from Nova Corps after Rocket's mishap, so why let it go to waste?

Groot sat cooperatively on the floor next to the shower drain and hugged his knees. Assisting somebody else in a shower? No problem. Bathing himself? That was a self-care task he couldn't quite master. He got dusty, and when he got dusty it upset Quill's allergies and set off lots of coughing and sneezing. It was especially bad since a minor illness called a "cold" left Quill oversensitive to nose and throat irritants.

A low hiss marked the mobile shower head switching on. Hot water splattered on the white tiles, making them sparkle.

"First thing is you take the nozzle and do this," Rocket stood on his toes and let the spray hit the very top of Groot's head, "This'll wash away any dead stuff that collected there. Now look, you see these buds?"

Groot leaned into the welcoming warmth as the water pooled and overflowed to run down his back.

"Yup," answered Quill.

"These turn into the flowers you're so damn allergic to. Pick 'em off."

"That doesn't hurt?"

"I am Groot," Groot shook his head no. Flowers indicated he was a mature adult Flora Colossus. He tilted his head to grant Rocket easier access. Rocket tugged and Groot heard the crunch of the buds being eaten. There were eight.

"Also check his back for leaves. Here's one," Rocket picked it and ate it, too.

"Um..." Quill gestured vaguely.

"What?"

"You're  _eating_  those? You're literally eating Groot."

"So?" Rocket found another leaf, "Where do you think I got the leaves for that huge spinach salad everybody ate last night? Groot grew 'em for me. Sorry, Quill, you already ate Groot, too."

At that, Quill blanched just a little. He shot Groot the most apologetic look in history.

And Groot exploded into laughter.

" _I_  am  _Groot!_ " he chortled.

Rocket cracked up, which caused the shower spray to jiggle.

Quill coughed, looking dangerously close to a smile, "Did he just call me an idiot?"

"Nope!" snorted Rocket, "He said, and I quote, 'I'm tempted to make you eat my entire ass, Quill.'"

Quill's eyes doubled in size. "You're an awfully big pervert for an asexual plant."

Groot managed his most innocent smile before busting up again. Quill's answering amusement was cut short by more coughing. He filled the water glass by the sink and drank some to soothe his throat.

"Pervert," he muttered again, smiling.

" **I**   _am_  Groot..." Groot quieted his mirth and settled his chin on his knees, relishing the running water.

"Okay, okay, back to business," Rocket reached for the scrub brush and held it up, "Whatever you do, Quill,  _don't_  use a brush to scrub Groot. That's what they did on Halfworld, and sometimes they took the entire top layer of his bark off."

He shoved the brush away, "Use the sponge and tell him it's coming so he can prepare for the stimulation. Let him decide on the pressure. He'll tell you by leaning into the sponge when you start scrubbing. Don't try to push harder if he pulls away."

Quill cupped his hand near his mouth as if to quiet another cough, "Right," he exhaled forcefully, "Warn for the sponge and don't follow him with it. Got it."

"Good, and don't forget it. Watch and learn. Ready for the soap, Groot?"

Groot grunted and ducked his head. Rocket squeezed scentless green liquid soap onto the hourglass-shaped red sponge.

"This is gonna hit the back of your neck first."

The slippery wetness was much easier to handle when he expected it. He pushed backwards into the scrubbing.

"There we go. Quill, see the green moss? It's his suntan, it'll grow back when sunlight hits him," Rocket kept talking while the sponge followed the sinewy vines making up Groot's neck and shoulders, "You can scrub it off, it ain't gonna hurt him. Right, Groot?"

"I am  _Groot_ ," rumbled Groot.

Once more, Quill exhaled heavily, as if it required effort. Groot tilted his head slightly. His peripheral vision was so clear he could read text with it. He often used it to study things when looking straight on felt intolerable. He kept Quill focused in his peripheral vision, wondering about his odd behavior.

Quill kept making a strange sound when he breathed out. Groot found it reminiscent of wind blowing across hollow reeds. He saw Quill reach into the pocket of his discarded jacket and take out a small white device shaped like half a crescent. Quill placed the smaller end of it into his mouth, inhaled, held his breath and let it out. He did it a second time, all while keeping his attention focused on Rocket's instructions. Within seconds his breathing grew quieter again.

"...get his whole back and sides. Rinse 'em off before you move on. See? There goes all the dust down the drain. Geez, Groot, we should've done this two months ago," Rocket went on, "His arms are next. Quill, when you do his arms, really scrub his wrists. He'll make fists like so to pull the vines out of the way. You already know why this is important."

"Infection control," Quill replied.

"Yup."

Groot sat patiently still while his wrists received a thorough scrub and rinse. He laughed and spat water on his raccoon friend when he came around front. Rocket didn't care about his clothes getting wet. He whacked Groot upside the head with the sponge, which only induced more snickers.

"All right, wise ass, you ready for me to do the front?"

Groot murmured a wordless affirmative. He slid his legs down until they stuck out straight in front of him, exposing his torso. The hot water sprayed his chest next. Flowing water always gave him a sense of peace. His tense expression relaxed into a placid smile.

Assistance while bathing, the second most intimate act for a Flora Colossus. Groups of four or more often gathered under waterfalls to clean off and enjoy a drink. Everyone gave their neighbor a hand and in return received help to get themselves clean. Bathing required complete trust. Eye contact was the only thing that rated higher.

Groot thrummed softly, expressing his contentment. Rocket wasn't someone who showed a ton of affection in front of other people, yet the care he took to ensure showers felt nothing like the hostile, impersonal bathing on Halfworld said more than words. He never shamed Groot for his inability to bathe himself or complete 'simple' everyday tasks without prompting. Giving a hand for those things was just something he did.

"Oh, so that's the rumble," Quill's voice didn't intrude on the calm moment, "Heh, been wondering about that."

"Yup. Check out his expression, Quill," Rocket went on, his voice gentler than before, "That's  _trust_."

He warned Groot before plopping the sponge over his heart and scrubbing along the wood grain. Groot had complete faith that the tiny hand working the soapy sponge across his front side wouldn't bring him harm. Warm water rinsed the suds away. The shower's hiss quieted when Rocket turned the strength of the spray down.

"Quill, pay attention. If you screw this up you'll screw Groot up. Groot? I'm gonna wash your face now. You okay with that?"

Groot shut his eyes and mouth with a nod. This was the worst part of showers for him. No matter how gently Rocket did it, he still had to fight the memories of yellow hands wiping sour fluid on his face.

Rocket warned him before the sponge made contact. He kept talking to Quill without breaking his rhythm, "Start in the center of his face. Draw a vertical line with the soap and imagine a horizontal one going across it right underneath his eyes. Now you've got four quadrants. Wash the bottom two first.  _Only_  scrub up and down. Don't move sideways for anything, and talk to him the whole time. Doesn't matter what you're talking about, just talk to him so he doesn't get triggered. Don't touch his chin to tilt his head back. Ask him to tilt his head back for you. Doing okay, Groot?"

Groot grunted the affirmative. His heart was pounding, but other than that he felt safe.

"Cool. Quill, when you're rinsing, keep it light. Don't use your hand. Use the sponge if the soap ain't dribbling off. Leave the soap you wiped down the center of his face on there as much as you can," Rocket kept his voice quiet so it didn't boom or echo off the tiles as much, "I'm gonna wash above your eyes, Groot. Fists up."

Groot covered eyes with his fists to keep the soap out of them. Rocket wiped the sponge in an upward motion that followed the wood grain of his forehead and sprayed gently with the shower head set on its lowest setting. Warm water cascaded around Groot's fists. He distracted himself by listening to Rocket pass more instructions out to Quill.

"Back off if he grabs the sponge or pushes you away at any point during a shower. Groot doesn't do it to make it hard, he's protecting himself. Groot, don't inhale, I'm gonna rinse the rest of your face and then you'll be ready to stand up."

Rocket eased the spray down the center of Groot's face to remove the remaining soap residue. The worst part was over. Now the shower would be fun again.

"He'll stand up after you do his face. Showers are stimulating-- he's gonna do more motor planning than usual, so it's gonna take him time to change position. Don't rush  _anything_. Showers go at  _his_  pace, not yours."

Quill took another drink of water. "Hold on, motor planning?"

Rocket's ears twitched. "Is there an echo in here?"

"What?" Quill sniffed.

" _I_  am Groot," Groot snickered.

An amused smile twitched Quill's upper lip, "I get the feeling you just explained it to me."

"He did," Rocket let the water spray Groot's feet, "Okay, look, you don't think twice about it when you get off your ass and walk across a room to open a door. Your body knows what to do automatically, right?"

"I don't...oh, yeah. True. I just do it."

"Well, Groot's body doesn't work like that. He's gotta think of every step as he does it. Sometimes a step gets lost. Remember when he was sick and forgot how to walk?"

Quill furrowed his brow and nodded, "Yeah. I was worried."

"You sap. Highly stimulating environments sometimes scramble up Groot's motor planning. He's gonna be thinking real hard about every move he's gonna make in a second here. Two things can happen-- he gets stuck and doesn't remember what to do next, or his body makes another move instead of the one he wants it to. He wants me to show you how to un-stick him if he gets stuck. It's all about the prompts. He usually uses environmental prompts to tell him what to do."

Now Quill pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, "Sorry...you lost me with the psychology lingo."

"Tch, lemme make it simple then. You smell Drax making that meat stew he's so good at, so you get hungry and go ask him to dish up a bowlful. Your environment gives you a prompt and body reacts. That's how Groot  _works_ , Quill. Sometimes his body responds to prompts whether his brain wants to or not. Give him too many at once and he--" Rocket feigned biting himself on the wrist, "--starts doing that."

"You mean that’s why you can take Rocket's gun apart, clean it, put it back together no problem? Hell, you flew the  _Milano_  here after I talked you through getting her up in the air," Quill directed his questions at Groot, "Why can you do that and not make a salad or take a shower? No disrespect, man, I'm tryin' to figure this out."

Groot smiled, shrugging, "I  ** _am_**   _Groot_."

Rocket, as always, provided the translation, "That's because he's fine doing stuff you can do just one way. Finishing a step prompts the next step. It's things you can do a ton of ways and not know you screwed up until it's too late that lose him. That's what the new program I added to his data pad does. It prompts him through complicated tasks.

"And by complicated I mean complicated to  _him_ , not  _you_. If he wants to make a salad on his own, he can open the program and get step by step instructions. If he wants to wash the  _Milano's_  windows or mop the floors, he can open the program and select those. I programmed a ton of awesome shit in there for him.

"The program's also there to get him un-stuck when his motor planning issues act up. If he gets stuck near stairs, he can open a program that'll prompt him with the word 'up' or 'down'. He's got a set of prompts every move you take for granted, Quill. He wanted more independence and I gave it to him. Ain't that right, Groot?"

"I  _am_   **Groot.** "

Quill shifted his weight and glanced at the data pad, which was currently shut off and sitting on the counter. "Ohh, was wondering about that little running man icon."

"Yeah, now back to the shower. Sometimes the environment doesn't tell Groot enough, so he needs extra prompts," Rocket pointedly stopped spraying Groot's feet, "First off, don't spray him when it's time to move. Got it? Great. Ready to stand up, Groot?"

"I  **am**  Groot."

Changing position required a lot of movements happening in the right order. Groot visualized them as blueprint snapshots that broke down into his individual limbs, then split even further to his joints. He twisted left, let his palms rest on the warm tiles and rotated his hips to get onto his hands and knees. His mind produced the image of standing upright. The course of action in between didn't materialize. He knew  _what_  to do, but the  _how_  was lost behind the shower noise.

Rocket said, "Push up."

Like magic, Rocket's words produced the concealed image and the steps to complete it. Groot knelt, pushed up and stood upright. He saw Quill take another puff from the odd half-crescent device, but his attention quickly returned to the new stimulation of water swishing around his feet.

"We go from the bottom up once he's standing. You payin' attention, Quill?"

"Yep," Quill's voice sounded pinched. He cleared his throat and it came out clearer, "Been watching like a hawk."

Groot peered intently at the white object in Quill's hand, not realizing the discomfort his stare induced until he saw Quill put the item away. He blinked, looking down when Rocket warned him about the oncoming sponge and scrubbed his trunk-like legs. Groot grew two vines off his shoulders for Rocket to hang onto. Rocket passed him the mobile shower head to free that hand for holding the vines and scrubbed higher.

"Uh..." Quill sputtered, "You're washing his..." he gesticulated at himself.

"What's wrong with-- oh, c'mon, he doesn't have any junk! Grow up!"

Groot could not stop himself from chuckling. The almighty Star-Lord was afraid of touching someone else's crotch? At least he seemed gentlemanly about it!

Rocket swung himself behind Groot to wash his backside. Then he hopped down and gestured for the shower head, which Groot handed to him. He rinsed all the soap away. Groot watched the dirt spiral down the drain.

"Scrub everything on his lower half first and rinse after. Keep it routine. He gets upset if you do anything different. He can guide you if you don't remember the order. Now, for the most important step," Rocket lowered the water temperature and handed Groot the shower head again, "Don't forget this step. I don't care if you screw up the rest of the shower, don't forget  _this_."

Groot took the shower head and aimed the spray into his mouth for a refreshing drink. He shut the water off himself and placed the shower head back in its hose holder on the wall.

"There you go. Showering Groot one-oh-one. He'll absorb about half the water on him. His body needs that, so don't make him dry off. Now get outta my way, the casino next door has a Krylorian Roulette table with my name on it."

Rocket hocked a loogie into the shower drain and walked out with a swish of his ringed tail.

Groot gestured to his data pad and Quill slid it within reach. He tapped all four corners to switch it on. Rocket recently rigged it to respond to moderate pressure instead of light touch. Fine motor control wasn't Groot's strongest suit. Sliding his index finger around on the screen until he landed on the character he wanted to type was easier, but doing that also meant accidentally dragging icons or highlighting unnecessary letters. Thanks to Rocket, he only had to push down a little harder to make the device register a tap. The icons stayed in the same place, which meant less frustration.

Best of all, his typing speed increased  _dramatically_. Spelling came to him as the patterns his index finger traced for each word rather than remembering every letter in the correct order. He still chose meaning over proper grammar. Rocket jokingly called it his Flora Colossus accent.

"I am Groot?" Groot asked as he shaped each word onscreen. The data pad repeated what he typed in its emotionless robotic voice. He liked that-- people had to look at his expression to fill in the lack of vocal tone variation.

**Are you joins Rocket, Drax and Gamora at the casinos?**

Quill shook his head no, "Not today. I'm still getting over this damn cold. Feel like crap."

 _Colds_ , as Quill called them, were minor upper respiratory infections that affected the nasal passageways. In Quill's case, it included a nasty, barking cough that lasted nearly three weeks.

Groot found it odd. Drax came down with the same illness and recovered in five days. Then again, Drax's immune system was a force to envy. He got over a case of Xandarian stomach flu in only sixteen hours-- Rocket and Quill took forty-eight hours to fight off the same problem. And Gamora  _never_  got sick, or if she did she was excellent at hiding it.

Quill coughed over the sink and rinsed the gunk he spat down the drain.

"Ugh, can't breathe. I need to get out of this stuffy bathroom," he said, grabbing his jacket.

Something about his manner wasn't right. Groot frowned and started to follow until he remembered hotel etiquette. He couldn't leave the bathroom until he stopped dripping water.

Quill perched on the end of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head propped up on his hands. Not his usual posture at all.

" _I_  am  _Groot?_ " Groot inquired, and typed,  **Does you needs helps?**

"Nah," Quill looked up with his characteristic half-smirk before dropping his head onto his hands again, "M'fine."

Maybe he was tired because of his cold. Groot shrugged without giving it another thought. He retreated away from the door and quietly paced around the bathroom while waiting for his bark to dry off.

Twenty minutes passed. Groot's bark stopped dripping water onto the floor. He heard Quill muttering to himself. Another five minutes transpired and the muttering became the weird wind-over-hollow-reeds noise from earlier.

Concerned, Groot peeked out the bathroom door. Quill's mouth hung open and his neck tendons strained beneath skin. He scooted backwards until the mattress touched the backs of his knees, rested his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward, both hands clutching the edge of the bed. The posture eerily resembled the tripod Rocket sometimes used to prop up his gun.

"I...am Groot?"

Quill's fingers dented the shiny gold comforter. Rather than answer, he shot Groot an uncharacteristically terrified look. Painful-sounding coughs almost collapsed his body into itself.

For a moment, just a split second, Groot feared this alien would turn inside out right in front of him. He hurried to Quill's side and typed on his data pad.

**You looks sicks. Does you needs a doctors?**

Quill shook his head. The wheezing noise present only at exhale started happening when he inhaled.

Did he have something stuck in his throat? Groot brought him a glass of water only to be confused by seeing it refused. He set the glass on the floor and tried patting Quill's back to help him cough up whatever obstructed his breathing. That, too, was met by hands pushing him away.

Groot shifted uneasily, wiggling his fingers near his ears to shut out the frightening sounds. The knot in his stomach spread uncomfortably towards his throat and escaped as a faint groan. He spread his hands, begging for a prompt to explain these unfamiliar environmental cues. A drink got waved away. Back-pats didn't help either. What was he supposed to do next?

Quill pointed to his jacket and spoke, his voice a reedy whisper between gasps, "Key card...left...pocket... Get the...black bag...on the...hook...in my...room... Bring the...bag...to me...  _Hurry!_ "

Scared now, Groot dug for the key card and raced next door. The bag hung off the gold hat hook by the white lamp just like Quill described. No need to question if he found the right item. Hearing Quill cough sent terror pulsing through his nerve endings, so he yanked on the bag instead of lifting. The hook came off the wall and clattered to the floor.

Groot's first instinct was to put the hook on the wall again. He growled when the adhesive backing wouldn't stick.

Loud coughing brought the immediate situation back into the forefront. Groot left the hook on the floor and clambered next door where Quill's wheezing now drowned out the faint traffic noises outside. He'd taken his shirt off. The skin on his neck caved in around his collarbones and his abdomen retracted against his ribs. His entire torso heaved with the effort of sucking in air. Did his  _diaphragm_  break? Rocket said that was a vital muscle for respiration.

" ** _I_**  am  _Groot_ ," Groot placed the bag next to his distressed friend.

Quill dragged the bag into his lap. More coughs shook him while he produced something wrapped in a flat square of silver foil labeled  _Oxite_. The tiny print said it was taken sublingually to deliver oxygen to the bloodstream. He handed it to Groot and mimed a tearing motion. Groot tore the packet in half, exposing a tiny blue capsule. Quill stuck it under his tongue and some of his panic subsided. He pulled a white canister and an clear plastic cone from the bag. The cone had two slots on each side, a curved backing and its bottom resembled screw-on cap. His hands shook when he popped the lid off the canister to reveal a tiny cup underneath. He hurriedly screwed the cone-tube on the canister's cup and pushed it downward. The cup filled with clear fluid while the canister emitted a hissing buzz.

"Groot...hold this..." Quill rasped, "...don't...let it...tip."

Talking sent him into a coughing fit and he couldn't catch his breath in between. Pain twisted his expression. His scared green eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

Groot knelt by Quill's feet and cupped both hands under the canister. The unexpected vibrations almost made him drop it, but he gripped it tighter instead.

Steamy mist swirled from the cone. Quill pulled the canister close to fit the cone over his nose and mouth. The plastic fogged and cleared in time with his breaths. His eyelids started fluttering. He gasped to inhale the mist. The slots on the cone let his exhales escape without moving it off his face.

"Gimme...five...minutes," Quill croaked through the mask, "If I don't...get better...by then...call the...emergency...line...okay?"

Groot's brow furrowed as he set a timer on his data pad to beep in five minutes. He shifted to sit beside Quill and placed a hand on his back. His other hand continued supporting the vibrating canister. Quill made visible efforts to control his inhales, hold his breath and let it out. In between, he panicked and coughed. Groot almost wondered why until he remembered most alien brains required constant oxygen to survive, and impaired breathing for more than a few seconds caused considerable distress.

How did humans-- half-humans, in Quill's case-- survive with such feeble respiratory systems? Groot kept that question to himself because he knew how it felt to be judged inferior based on observation alone.

"I  _am_  Groot," he murmured reassuringly.

Quill's muscles weren't straining so much anymore. He began taking deeper breaths even though they caused him to cough.

Groot's data pad beeped. The five minutes were up. He grunted and moved his finger around the touch screen.

**Does I needs to calls the emergency people?**

"No, this's working," Quill muffled through the cone-mask, his voice no longer a reedy whisper separated by gasps, "Thanks, Groot."

Reluctant, Groot took his hand off the canister and let Quill keep holding it. The canister emitted sputtering noises. Quill tapped on the little cup under the cone. He drew a deep breath and lowered the canister when its buzzing stopped. The sudden quiet left Groot's ears ringing. It took him a few seconds to recognize the rushing noise was Quill's breathing. Though better, it wasn't normal.

Groot offered the water glass that got refused earlier. Rocket always wanted a drink after coughing fits whenever he got sick, so Groot figured Quill might want it now.

"Whew. Thanks," Quill took a sip, thought twice and drank the whole glassful. He put the empty glass on the nightstand and dragged his shirt back on. After that, he unscrewed the cone mask and the little cup underneath it. The mask and the top of the canister received a thorough wiping with a disinfectant pad. He stuck the pad down in the tiny cup before handing it to Groot.

"Here, that goes in the trash."

The disinfectant pad smelled fruity. Groot accepted the items and deposited them in the bathroom trash can. Quill scooted onto the floor. He leaned back against the bed with a forearm draped across his eyes. His breathing still looked rough, though nowhere near what it was before. Everything about his behavior screamed  _exhaustion_.

Groot grabbed his data pad.

**What happens to you?**

"Hm?" Quill lifted his forearm off his eyes, "That, Groot--" he coughed, "--was an asthma attack."

The word  _attack_  struck Groot's nerves like lightning. His eyes darted around the room, seeking this unseen  _asthma attacker_.

**What does an asthmas looks like? Tells me so I can fights it off if it attacks again.**

"What does-- huh?" Quill wheezed when he laughed, "You never heard of asthma before?"

Groot shook his head.

"Oh. Well, um...it's a medical condition. I was born with screwed up lungs that don't work right. My lungs...well, lots of peoples' lungs...have a bunch of tiny muscles wrapped around the tubes that go into them. Sometimes those tiny muscles contract too tight. Then my lungs freak out and start creating a bunch of mucus. Mix 'em together and I can't breathe. That's an asthma attack. That's what you saw. "

Quill patted his black bag, sighing, "You can't tell I've got it until I forget to put on my Esonophite patch once a month. Patches keep those muscles relaxed and prevent the immune response that sets off asthma attacks. I left 'em on the  _Milano_  like a dumbass. I thought they were in the bag, but they're still sitting in my medicine cubbyhole. Ugh..."

He stopped to inhale, hold it and exhale again as though relishing the simplicity of breathing.

Groot bent over, examining the strange devices Quill used. Quill noticed his curious expression.

"The little thing's my inhaler. The canister's my nebulizer. Go ahead, check 'em out the way you check stuff out."

Nodding, Groot sniffed, bit, licked, shook and tapped each item until they made sense to him. He didn't remember things by their names, rather, he recalled the sensory information related to it. Hearing the name of a tangible thing conjured up its sensory information. Conjuring up its sensory information let him translate the object into its name when he spoke to Rocket or typed on his datapad.

He gestured at both medical devices, silently questioning their purpose. The more he understood how they worked, the better he could help Quill use them in the future.

"The inhaler's full of Respirole and that relaxes the muscles wrapped around my airways," he pointed, "The medicine is in the bottom and there's a little mesh pad just inside the hole I stick into my mouth. The pad breaks the droplets up into a mist. I take a puff to inhale the medicine."

Quill cleared his throat and touched the canister, "This's my nebulizer. They're stronger meds than my inhaler. Accloline and Aerotussin. One opens my airways, the other thins mucus. The mist particles are smaller and lighter, so I don't have to take as deep a breath to get the medicine where I need it."

He pointed to the foil package on the floor, "And the pill I stuck under my tongue gives me a burst of oxygen so I don't pass out before I get the nebulizer going."

Finally, disdainfully, he let his head flop backwards against the bed.

"Just a heads-up...I'm probably gonna have more attacks until I put a new patch on. Here's hopin' all the meds I gave myself keep 'em mild."

Groot's fear turned to concern and pity. He shifted uneasily, watching Quill's chest rise and fall in fear of it suddenly seizing up again.

**Does it hurts?**

Quill's nostrils flared when he nodded.

"Mmhmm. Starts with a tight feeling in my chest. Breathing out gets harder, like you can't get rid of the air already in your lungs.

"Try this, Groot. Take the deepest breath you can. Awesome, now--" Quill beckoned Groot to sit in front of him, arranged his hand into a fist and pushed it towards his mouth, "--clench your fist as hard as you can and exhale half of that breath into the little hole your fingers make. Take your fist away to take another deep breath. Exhale a fourth of that into your fist, move it away and take another deep breath."

Not being able to quickly exhale created a disquieting sensation. Then Quill pushed his fist back over his mouth again and held it there.

"Now try to inhale through that tiny hole when there's already too much air in your lungs. You need to get rid of the air as much as you need to suck it in. That's an asthma attack, Groot. That's how it feels. Every bad one makes me wonder if I'm ever gonna breathe right again."

Though Groot didn't need air as often as most aliens did, the sensation of not being able to draw breath at will sent chills down his back. He kept trying to breathe through his fist until Quill reached over and pushed it aside.

Groot took a deep breath to rid himself of the unpleasant feeling in his chest.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me over this," Quill went on, "The Esonophite patches keep it under control. Yondu had asthma too and swore by 'em. They completely kill it. Like, I never knew what it felt like to breathe without working for it until I started using them.

"Heh, Yondu never went easy on me. I started wheezing when he abducted me and slapped the translator onto my neck. He-- heh!-- he grabbed my old Albuterol inhaler from me, took a puff the wrong way and choked on it!"

Quill laughed with a shake of his head. His voice squeaked as he imitated Yondu's higher-pitched timbre, "'Oh, what's wrong, boy? You think I'm gonna have sympathy for you 'cause you can't breathe? You ain't gettin' any!'"

Then his voice returned to normal, "He gave me a patch, shoved the meds I use today at me and told me I had no excuses. Either I adapted or they were gonna eat me. I didn't want to get eaten, so..." He gestured to the medical devices, "here I am."

A frown wrinkled Groot's wooden brow. He focused on an invisible point just below Quill's bottom lip and rocked back and forth several times, processing the story he'd been told.

"I  _AM_   _Groot?_ " he asked, then typed,  **Will it makes you gets dead?**

"Huh? People can die from it, yeah, but I'm not one of them. I'll be good as new once I have a fresh patch. Don't worry, Groot," Quill patted Groot's forearm and sat up straight.

Groot pushed himself upright. Quill got up, too. He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his own neck, ruffling his brown hair.

"Hey, um, don't tell Rocket or anybody else about this, okay? People try to make it into a big deal and treat me like I'll break if I exert myself. I hate that. You'll never know there's a problem after I put on a new patch."

"I am Groot," Groot rumbled and typed,  **But what if you stops breathes for so longs you loses consciousness?**

" _That's_  when you tell somebody, but I've never had one that bad so don't even worry about it," Quill allowed himself a chunky cough, "I've got this under control."

Groot gnawed absently on a vine growing off his left shoulder. Not stimulating enough, so he grabbed the coiled clear chew tube Drax gave him after he recovered from his wrist abscess. He watched Quill gather his jacket and bag. Just that act had him puffing as if he jogged a mile.

"M'gonna chill in my room next door. You gonna be okay alone, Groot?"

"I am  **Groot?** " Groot asked Quill the same thing. Then he typed it.

Quill said, "Yup. I will be if I don't walk around too much."

Groot wished he could believe it. Quill said he needed those Esonophite patches to be completely symptom-free. There was only one course of action-- a very scary course of action-- that Groot could take to ensure Quill returned to health without anybody finding out against his will.

The second Quill's door clicked shut, Groot exited the room and made certain the door locked behind him. He formed a pouch on his hip to contain the key card so his hands were free to hold the data pad.

First things first-- he needed to ensure his eyes adapted to the bright Xandarian sunlight. Flora Colossi pupils did not contract well in response to brilliant light. They were attuned for the dimness of dusk and dawn. Xandar's three bright suns turned everything painfully white with vague shapes. Groot found it agonizing and intolerable.

Fortunately, Rocket carried a bottle of eye drops that helped his pupils contract more so he could see properly. Groot braved the near whiteness when he headed towards the Tri-Sun casino adjacent to the hotel.

Once inside the door, he stared straight ahead at a yellow internally-lit sculpture of three connected spheres representing Xandar's suns. His eyes took thousands of pictures while his brain translated the visual chaos into understandable shapes, sizes and colors. The people populating the casino were little more than faceless store mannequins. Their details came next-- shapes, sizes, colors and individual features. What sounded like a cacophony became unique, recognizable noises. Slot machine dings, tokens falling into buckets, voices, shuffling cards and somebody sneezing far away. Annoying, but tolerable since he expected it.

Groot's gaze moved downward. Shiny black tiles gave way to a fish scale-patterned carpet. Each "scale" had yellow geometric representations of Xandar's suns outlined in rainbow colors.

Seeing a reflective surface end abruptly translated to a chasm. Uneasiness pulsed behind his chest. He broke a small twig off his shoulder and dropped it on the carpet. It landed solidly instead of falling away out of sight. Now his eyes perceived the floor as a solid surface.

He shifted away from the doorway and looked up. Round recessed white lights lined the beams criss-crossing the casino's matte black ceiling. This effect created neat diamond-shaped shadows. Groot found the ceiling so fascinating that he forgot to stop walking. He knocked chest-first into a slot machine.

A familiar voice shouted, "Nice going, you idiot!"

Groot twisted to his left and saw a small cafe. A curving black half-wall separated it from the casino. Rocket sat alone at a black table by the entrance, lazily slurping up a curly orange noodle from the red plate of pasta salad in front of him.

Well, how convenient. Groot lit up and approached Rocket's table, glad that he didn't need to search the whole casino for him. He casually picked up Rocket's drink, sipped it like it was his and set it down again without jostling the ice. Sweet iced tea, not alcohol. Rocket didn't complain.

"I am Groot?" Groot inquired about the food.

"Had better, but I'm too hungry to care," Rocket said with his mouth full, "What'cha want?"

" _I am_ Groot."

"Heh, you're gonna go bask in it?"

Groot nodded-- technically, he would be out in the sunlight. He pointed to Rocket's plate, "I am Groot?"

"Better not. It's got fish in it. Here, sit down and I'll give you the drops."

Groot sank to sit on the too-small chair that curled his legs at awkward angles. Rocket perched on the edge of the table with the tiny silver bottle in his right hand.

"Head back, eyes up," he held Groot's left eyelids open with his fingers, "I'll do the left one first. Ready? One, two, three."

The stinging drops burned fiercely. Groot sank his head into his shoulders to avoid slapping himself across the face. He forced himself to sit up straight while Rocket tended his other eye. The burning reached a crescendo and gradually diminished. It felt worse because of the constant casino noises and smells. He clenched his fists against his ears to bear the unpleasantness until he could open his eyes again without pain.

"There you go," Rocket capped the bottle and put it away, "They in?"

Groot grunted the affirmative and stole an ice cube from Rocket's iced tea. He stuck it in his mouth and grinned.

Rocket resumed scarfing noodles. "You're a punk, you know that?"

"I  ** _am_**  Groot."

"Yeah? Well beat it if you want to catch the noon suns."

At that, Groot stole another ice cube and headed outdoors while chewing it to pieces. The eye drops worked like a charm and his pupils contracted enough to let him see properly in the luminescent daylight. He gazed at the map on his data pad that showed him the  _Milano's_ location as a purple square. His current position was an orange triangle. A blinking yellow arrow indicated which direction he needed to travel and the street he had to follow lit up yellow as he approached.

How complicated could walking all the way to the  _Milano_  be?

As it turned out--  _very_.

The traffic stop proved horrifically confusing. Groot selected the prompts program icon at the bottom of his data pad's screen and cycled through several actions until he came to  _crossing streets_. The screen gave him written and verbal instructions for managing traffic lights in easy step-by-step bites.

It described crossing a straight street with one light signal. This street formed a half-circle and had four different lights arranged in fan pattern. The individual panels for each light came to a sharp point. The outer two panels were orange, indicating the people in those lanes could go, while the inner two shone purple for  _stop_. A series of painted white diamonds denoted the crosswalks and several crosswalks converged beneath the fan-shaped traffic signal.

Colorful low-flying antigravity vehicles made swift left turns around the half-circle. Others went straight. They moved so fast!

The purple and orange panels switched their coloring, indicating someone else had the right to cross. Some vehicles stopped. The traffic heading the direction Groot faced lurched into motion.

Groot's eyes followed the sequential diamonds in front of him. Their pattern got lost among the other crosswalks all converging on the semicircular curb. None of this made any sense! None of it! None!

Several vehicles on the left honked and emitted rumbling noises without moving. So many environmental cues. Groot didn't know which ones to respond to or in what order. Familiar numb grayness knotted his stomach like a brewing storm.

This couldn't happen out here! No!

He fled from the curb to sit on the grassy hill beside a silver building and clapped both hands over his ears. Closing his eyes made the world go away, and he convinced himself nobody else could see him as long as he couldn't see them. He yanked the clear chew coil off his wrist and gnashed it between his teeth, hoping to fight off the grayness before it grew beyond his control.

Venturing into a massive megalopolis far more complicated than he thought...what a ridiculous idea! Groot nipped the self-loathing in the bud. This wasn't about him. He promised Quill not to tell anyone about his asthma and the Esonophite patches helped him not suffocate to death. He would walk through fire to get them if it meant his friend could breathe!

Time passed slowly, measured by the whirr of vehicles and occasional pedestrians passing. Groot slipped the chew coil back onto his wrist and opened his eyes to look around. He watched four groups of people cross the street and realized the points of each crossing light pointed to the corresponding crosswalks. His frustration melted instantly. He struggled to get up. When he couldn't conjure up the mental blueprint, he selected the prompts program icon and cycled through several actions until he came to  _getting up_.

A robotic voice boomed through the speakers.

**_Push up, push up, push up_.**

With prompting, Groot easily picked himself up off the grassy hill. He switched back to the map as he approached the curb. Every vehicle looked and sounded absolutely menacing. So much gleaming metal. Groot emitted a soft whine and half-hid behind a light pole.

The signal across the street changed. He practically sprinted towards the opposite curb so none of the scary vehicles had a chance to honk at him. His heart hammered in his chest upon reaching safety. He glanced up at the pale blue sky. Gleaming buildings filled his peripheral vision. He looked down at the data pad screen and continued walking in the direction indicated by a blinking arrow.

Two deep sighs escaped his mouth. Cities were  _hot_. The combination of white sidewalks, black streets and the metal of buildings created a sweltering force field that weighed the air down. But as bad as that felt, it was nothing compared to breathing against a clenched fist. Remembering his goal realigned Groot's focus.

Directions from the data pad led him through a relatively quiet residential alleyway. He enjoyed a long drink from a hose and squirted himself on the head before continuing forward. Not one thought went towards the distance behind him, however he noticed the suns weren't overhead anymore. How long had he been walking?

A flash of purple caught Groot's eye. Branches from a bushy green tree hung over a black brick wall. Dangling from its branches-- Groot blinked twice in amazement-- wild Xandarian apples! Healthy trees like that one grew them in huge clusters, so he didn't feel bad about picking any. He ate six quickly and two more at a slower pace. Experiencing their juicy sweetness restored the energy he didn't realize he lost. He thrummed and stroked the branch he took apples from to thank this tree for providing food.

Wind rustled the tree. A hot, humid northeasterly breeze common during Xandarian summers. Groot's seemingly hypersensitive nervous system was tuned specifically to sense air patterns. He habitually memorized the wind patterns of every planet he visited. Xandarian summer breezes usually switched directions and blew cooler towards evening.

Groot left the apple tree's shade without straying far from the black brick wall. Two-thirds of the way through the alley, he spotted ferns growing out of cracks in the bricks. He leaned close to them and let his eyes zero in on their perfection. Six green spirals curled effortlessly into infinity. Joy swirled sweetly within him, bringing forth a flurry of hand-flapping.

He swayed side to side between two evenly-spaced ferns. Seeing them grow and retreat in his peripheral vision felt like falling into  _forever_. The city didn't make sense. These spirals did.

What an amazing journey. First, Xandarian apples. Now, a wonderful reprieve in the form of natural fractals. Groot was in high spirits by the time he exited the alley next to a loud, busy cross street.

This crosswalk signal had eight different arrows. He consulted the map. It told him exactly which light to wait for. He crossed the street in a hurry, wary of the rumbling vehicle engines.

Chaotic city noise closed around him once more. He kept walking, doggedly heeding the directions on his data pad. Every step brought him closer to the  _Milano_.

Shadows began stretching along the ground. The sky took on a deeper blue. A strong sea breeze cooled the summer air. Traffic looked and sounded noticeably heavier. More ships roared overhead. People passed carrying takeout containers from the various restaurants populating this section of the city. Scents of cooking decorated the wind like invisible filigree.

Late afternoon sun and food scents-- it had to be dinnertime. Mealtimes were interesting for observing socialization. Groot paused near a low iron fence. Behind it, rows of round white tables outside an oval-shaped brown building. He watched the people sitting at those tables poke the colorful assortment of foods on their plates while paying close attention to whomever sat across from them. One or two ate alone. Many wore business attire.

Someone left a water glass untouched on a table near the iron fence. Groot drank it because it was there and not out of any real thirst. Then a waitress brought something foul-smelling outside and he beat a hasty retreat to get away from it.

Groot crossed eight more intersections. Traffic congestion grew heavier. One horrible crossing signal changed before he got halfway across. People were supposed to stop for a purple light, weren't they? He froze in the middle of the road, frightened by the honking vehicles roaring past and over him. Some came so close he felt the wind of their passage!

"Get outta the street!" a woman shouted.

"Idiot!" howled someone else.

Groot's shoulders hunched. A purple light meant STOP! Breaking laws got people arrested, and if he got arrested they could throw him back onto Halfworld.

Another shout came dangerously close to his ear, "You're gonna die doing that, moron!"

Four horns blared a dissonant screech. The purple light for his crosswalk finally turned orange again. Groot's limbs didn't obey the signal to move forward. Fear, vehicle noises echoing off the buildings, the sunlight reflecting off gleaming metal and the movement all around drowned out the messages he sent to his legs. Panic clutched his throat when he looked down at the data pad screen. The arrow pointing ahead gave just enough prompting. His legs jolted into motion. He ran forward and hugged the light pole on the opposite curb. His whole body trembled while the traffic whizzed carelessly past his back.

Low groans droned in Groot's throat, something he hadn't done in a long, long while. They started without his realization. He made no efforts at stopping them because the city sounds were too overwhelming and presented so many prompts. Everything felt too big, too bright, too loud. Closing his eyes shut out the worst of it. How did people live in such busy places?

Groot groaned louder and leaned more heavily on the light pole. Spots danced inside the darkness of his closed eyelids. The city noise receded slightly, as sounds often did when he started falling asleep on his feet. Sleep, his brain's way to escape into silence. This nice pole would hold him up.

Honking horns jolted him alert again. Retreating into silence wasn't an option here. Frustrated, he punched himself in the hip and smashed his forehead into the pole again.

Pedestrians shuffled past him. Nobody stopped to ask if he was all right. Their voices made him acutely aware of his behavior and his very public surroundings.

Were people staring from their vehicles? Were the Xandarians who passed wondering about him? Did that woman laugh at him or something her friend said? Were they about to contact Halfworld and reveal his location?

Groot forced himself to stop banging his head on the pole. No amount of wishing to be somewhere else would make it happen. He brought his wrist to his mouth and chewed on the clear coil he'd wrapped around it. Somehow that gave him the wherewithal to open his eyes and resume walking.

Crossing the next few streets proved far less harrowing. Those signals stayed orange long enough to let him reach the other curb.

Afternoon dimmed to evening. The western horizon shone bright yellow and the overhead sky looked deep blue like the bottom of an imagined sea. Street lamps began coming on and vehicles utilized their headlights.

Groot's vision actually improved as dusk approached. Edges appeared sharper and details more obvious. His eyes were made for this light level. The only problem was now he had moving vehicle headlights to contend with.

The data pad directed him to make a right. He entered an alleyway. Barren, dark and smelling like garbage, it had nothing resembling the first alley earlier in the day. Mud coated the gray central gutter. The dirty back sides of buildings showed much disrepair. Back doors were open, revealing rectangle pictures of the worlds within.

Groot didn't like this alley. It was practically an amplifier for all the traffic noise and the sounds of  _people_. Everything seemed unreal and distorted. Uneasiness knotted his stomach. There were people of various colors, sizes and shapes sweeping, taking out garbage and dragging in crates of fresh supplies. Groot avoided looking at anyone, lest they see him noticing them. Surely he would be left alone if he looked like he knew what he was doing.

Halfway through the alley, he got blindsided by wooden cart someone shoved out their door.

"Watch it!" snarled a shrill voice.

"I am  _GROOT!_ " Groot rudely growled at the woman to watch herself without slowing his walk. Uncharacteristic of him, but his goal-directed brain had little room for friendly platitudes.

Wispy bushes and white brick buildings framed the alleyway's exit. Bright white street lamps shaped like long bars shone across the very busy street. Traffic whizzed by as gleaming blurs. In the distance, Groot saw the hangar where the  _Milano_  was housed with several other air traffic vehicles.

The data pad pointed him towards the crossing signal at his left. He joined a crowd waiting to cross.

"Mommy! It's a tree!" said a child as the light changed.

Groot glanced at the little girl with a brief smile and bolted across the street. From here on out he had a long walk with no more crossings. Relieved, he allowed himself a quick, victorious hand flap.

The sky overhead was coal-black and the day's heat bled away as residual warmth beneath his feet. A cool breeze rustled the flowery foliage at his right. Only hearing traffic on the left made the general city din less overpowering.

At last, the bright golden sign naming the hangar loomed next to the docking pads. The pads themselves were housed underground. Groot remembered which pad contained the  _Milano_  and walked right to it. He enjoyed the rising feeling of riding the elevator down and still felt like he was on it when he stepped off.

The  _Milano's_  lights came on automatically once he entered it. Escaping into the quietness offered welcome relief.

Finally, silence!

Keeping up the walls between himself and sensory hell tumbled down. His ears rang and his head throbbed from having his eyes focused for so long. Fatigue dropped onto him like the anvils that fell on peoples' heads in those car-toons Quill showed him once. He had no idea what those odd images had in relation to Terran cars and music. Aliens were weird!

Groot went immediately into the kitchen area, grabbed the faucet hose for rinsing the dishes and turned on the water. He drank greedily. Then he opened the fridge, seized a bowl of fruit salad and practically shoved his face in it to eat. Manners didn't matter if nobody could see him.

After satisfying his hunger and thirst, he sat limply on the floor and rocked back and forth.

He did it! He made it to the  _Milano_  alone in one piece! Elated, he flapped his hands in the air to expel the joyful bubble knotting his chest. Tiredness wouldn't let him run around like he wanted to.

The memory of why he came sobered his enthusiasm. Quill's Esonophite patches. They were very, very, very important. Quill needed those to breathe.

Groot wiped the fruit salad mess off his mouth with his forearm and licked his forearm clean. The refrigeration drawer's cooling element whirred on, startling him. He picked up his data pad and wandered towards Quill's bunk.

People said snooping was rude. Did it count if they needed something and didn't tell exactly where they kept it? Groot rocked side to side on his feet, pondering, until he decided apologies could come later. He started opening the small compartments around the bed and peering in to see if anything looked medicinal or not.

The last compartment had inhalers, two nebulizer canisters, two cone masks and a flat white box with rounded edges. Groot used all five senses to examine the box before checking inside. Transparent, triangular patches were stuck to a silver backing at regular intervals. They alternated between pointed end up and pointed end down to maximize the space. Groot counted eight patches per sheet and there were four sheets in the box. Each individual patch had drug information printed on the silver backing. His eyes refused to process the blocks of tiny text, but the words _breathing_  and  _symptom relief_  told him he held exactly what he came for.

New happiness flooded Groot's nerve endings. Everything was going to be okay! He secured the box of patches to his hip alongside the key card for his hotel room. His spirits soared when he exited both the  _Milano_  and the hangar while examining the data pad. He inhaled the balmy night air while stepping off the elevator...

And froze.

The arrow kept pointing to the  _Milano_. His signal blinked right on top of it. The Tri-Sun Hotel and Casino didn't have a homing beacon.

Groot's stomach dropped. He let his arms fall to his sides and stared straight ahead at the long distance he traversed. A trip that seemed impossible until he did it. He left the hotel at close to noon, and it took him until nightfall to reach this hangar on foot. Thoughts of the return trip never crossed his mind once until now.

All the city noises felt amplified to three times their intensity. Groot struggled to rebuild the walls he erected against the sensory bombardment, but they were too beaten down. Panicked, he bolted back inside the elevator. He rode it down, got into the  _Milano_  again and sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands.

This situation seemed hopeless. Why didn't he think about the return trip before he left?

Rage knotted his chest. The sensation whipped through his limbs like crawler lightning. He wanted to explode!

Raising his fists, he snarled at himself-- "I AM  **GROOT!** " --and slapped both hands down on the tabletop. That felt good. He did it six more times and stamped his feet for good measure. He stomped around the kitchen area, berating himself. In the midst of his ire he felt the vines holding the hotel key card let go. The plastic object plopped at his feet. He paused mid-stomp to pick it up.

A reflection of the hotel's name, contact number and how to reach specific rooms shone in his eyes. He sat down, rocking without realizing it.

Take a paid transport? No, it wouldn't work if the driver expected the passenger to provide directions. Groot rubbed the smooth hotel key card against his mouth before examining it again. He returned to the kitchen and brought his data pad online. A flick of his finger located the prompts program. He selected  _using a communications console_. The first step appeared as text onscreen and a robotic voice read it off. Groot followed it before swiping his fingers right to left across the screen to reveal the next actions. Following each step until the console beeped to life brought order back into his chaotic mind.

He thanked the stars that Rocket added this program in, or he never would have been able to get the console online. While a prompting program didn't substitute real life help, it let him accomplish more tasks on his own.

Groot held the card level with the communications screen and punched in the alpha-numeric code for contacting the hotel. It took several tries because his brain and fingers weren't listening to each other. At last, a feminine, albeit mechanical voice asked him to speak the room number or type it in.

"I am Groot," Groot said.

" _I'm sorry, that is not a proper number._ "

Groot rolled his eyes and typed the number instead. The screen went blank except for a spinning triple yellow sun pattern inside a rainbow circle-- the Tri-Sun Hotel and Casino's logo. Moments later, the logo stopped and the screen switched to the hotel room. Gamora and Quill were sitting on the bed. Rocket was ranting in the background.

"...I'll send the entire Nova Corps to find him if he doesn't--"

"Groot!" Drax's face practically filled the screen. His voice said  _surprise_ , his frown said...well Groot wasn't sure. "My friend, what have you--"

"Is that him?  _Is that him?_ " Rocket pushed his way into the forefront, " **Groot!** " He was livid, "Where the  _fuck_  are you?"

"I  _am_  Groot," Groot replied. In a single phrase he apologized, explained where he was, explained how he got there and told Rocket he didn't know how to get back to the hotel. All without spilling the secret as to  _why_.

In the background, Quill face-palmed.  _He_  knew.

"Rocket, don't yell at him," Quill said, "I said I forgot something on the ship and said I needed it. Groot must've thought I needed it ASAP. Was that it, Groot?" At Groot's solemn nod, he said, "See? He's trying to help me out. Sorry, Groot, I should've been clearer about th--"

"Shut UP, Quill! I don't care if he's trying to save the freakin'  _planet!_ " snarled Rocket. He faced the screen again, his quivering lips peeling back off his sharp teeth and voice booming through the speakers, "That's no excuse to pull a stunt like this!"

Confusion sprouted in Groot's mind like vines. He expected Rocket to be happy to see him! Seeing his best friend so angry at him actually sent prickling pains into his teeth. He broke some esoteric social rule, and memories of Halfworld told him broken rules meant punishment. While he knew, logically, that Rocket wouldn't ever hurt him on purpose, it didn't halt the physical response within his body.

He bowed his head and clasped his hands together. Behavior conditioning demanded he be still without engaging in any self-soothing.

Onscreen, Rocket's enraged expression softened slightly. He forced his voice into a calmer tone.

"Okay, I'm not gonna keep yelling and triggering you. I'll yell at you in person instead," he leaned forward again, "I'm coming to get you and bring you back to the hotel, Groot. Nobody's gonna hurt you. Go outside and sit on that little gray wall under the gold sign and wait for me."

"And we'll have a vegetarian stew to welcome you!" Drax grinned, utterly oblivious to the baleful glare Rocket shot his way.

Gamora came forward, her brow creased in what Groot knew to be concern, "Are you well?"

Groot nodded because he wasn't  _sick_  even though he felt exhausted to the core.

Quill coughed a few times. Rocket closed his fist to switch his end of the connection off. Groot did the same. The communications console went dark, leaving him in silence.

Shaken, Groot walked in circles, slapping himself on the back of the head and groaning. Creating internal and external vibrations helped the prickling in his teeth abate. He forced his tired, too-heavy body to pick up his data pad and staggered out of the  _Milano_. Another elevator ride, another moment of bracing himself before heading outside.

Cool night air only offered a brief reprieve. Walking to the little gray wall Rocket described felt like slogging miles through thick, sticky mud. He sat down while clutching his data pad and glanced at the expansive vehicle repair lot across the road. Long, horizontal white lamps on tall columns kept it well-lit. No doubt it also had a laser grid alarm system to deter thieves. He smirked to himself. Laser grids were pathetic. Rocket could disable one and steal a couple of those vehicles in a matter of minutes if he wanted to. He was  _just that good_.

Groot let his eyes lose focus and thought of all the ways he could stealthily present the Esonophite patches to Quill. Waiting until they had a moment alone together was best. Less fuss from the others that way.

He measured time's passage via the stillness breathing between the traffic signals periodically changing color. Humming vehicles whooshed across his visual field in blurs of multicolored metal. Sometimes huge clusters of vehicles lined up at the intersection and sometimes there were none.

A small orange aircraft resembling a wedge with blue wings and tailfins lowered to hover on Groot's left. White light lit the pavement where its antigravity emitters kept it from striking the ground. Its side door rotated upward, revealing Rocket.

He went all out. Flight transports weren't cheap.

"That's him," Rocket said to the pilot. To Groot, he snapped, "Get in!"

The tone he used had Groot flinching when he wiggled into the cramped vehicle. He had to assume a fetal position to fit. So there he lay, guiltily clutching his data pad. Heaviness pressed down on him as the flight transport lifted off and gained altitude.

Rocket folded his arms. He glared at Groot even though Groot quickly averted his eyes. The pace of his breathing, the bristling of his fur and the jagged white of his bared teeth expressed far more than words.

"Did you find what you came all the way out here for?"

Groot nodded solemnly and moved to show the reason for his unannounced trip.

"Don't show me!" snarled Rocket, "Whatever you came out here for ain't my business!"

Groot's eyes were saucers. "I  _am_  Groot...?" He raised both brow ridges, confused by Rocket's harsh tone.

"I. Couldn't. Find. You. Any. Where. I asked everybody if they'd seen you, and nobody had. We split up and looked everywhere we knew you like to go on foot. Quill suggested we all meet up in our hotel room in case you came back on your own. I was about to call up Nova Corps and send them out looking for you! Do you have any idea how I felt? Do you give half a shit right now?"

That made Groot shrug his shoulders and snort derisively. He cared! He always cared! Why would Rocket even sniff at something so ridiculous?

"Don't gimme that 'I should know that' holier-than-thou crap! I  _didn't_  know! You could've been-- I just didn't  _know_ , Groot!"

Insulted, Groot folded his arms and squinted. The feeling of being attacked for doing something  _nice_  really stung.

" **I**  am  _GROOT!_ " he snapped.

"Tch, I ain't treatin' your wooden ass like a sapling! I'm treatin' you like a friend! Do you realize what I went through while you were gone?"

Groot shook his head. No, he didn't. He couldn't fathom why Rocket was so angry because he figured his best friend knew him enough to know he wouldn't abandon him.

"Okay, okay, look..."

Rocket inhaled through his nose, closed his eyes and made downward patting motions with his hands. The effort it took him to lower his tone looked monumental. His eyes stayed shut until he brought himself under control. The next time he spoke, it sounded quieter.

"D'you remember the night I ended up in the hospital? D'you remember how you felt when you couldn't wake me up? You didn't know what was wrong. You didn't know if I was gonna live or die. You just knew I was sick and you couldn't fix it yourself. Remember that feeling?"

Oh, definitely. Groot recalled it so clear the sensations lurched up his main bole like an unpleasant texture brushing his nerves. He gasped and pressed a hand over his mouth.

The aircraft banked for a steep turn.

"Now you get it. Yeah, that's exactly how I felt because I didn't know where you went or how long you were gonna be gone. I was starting to think I'd never see you again," Rocket drew a deep breath, leaned forward and pointed to his own chest, "So let me reiterate. You scared the  ** _shit_** out of me!"

He turned away and rubbed at his eyes with visibly shaking hands, "I need a friggin' drink..."

At that, Groot's stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly. The full implication of the worry he inflicted on his best friend sank into his brain. Not only did he scare and upset Rocket...he also triggered him. Badly.

Remorseful, he pouted his bottom lip outward and beckoned at his forehead since he couldn't change positions in the tiny craft.

"I...am Groot."

"Fine, I'll give you some forehead," Rocket leaned over, letting their foreheads touch, "I'm listening. Talk."

Groot cupped Rocket's back and spoke the most sincere apology of his life, " **I**... _am_... ** _Groot_.** "

A sigh escaped Rocket's nose. He wrapped an arm halfway around Groot's head. The muscles in his forehead bunched up.

"Fine. Fine. I accept. Just don't do that again, okay? I ain't doubting your intentions, Groot. I trust  _you_. It's society's perception of you that I can't trust. I can't trust  _them_  to treat  _you_  right when I'm not around."

" _I_ \-- am Groot."

"Yeah? Star-Dork, Gamora and Drax are exceptions."

Groot blinked slowly, "I  **am**  Groot."

"Tch, you and your bleeding gold heart. Now you want to make it up to me? Fine, let's make this funny," Rocket's tone took on evil glee as the transport aircraft came in for a landing, "You know those nasty blue lights above the hotel bar's utility door?"

.o

Groot set five blue light bulbs on the ground beside Rocket. They were almost perfect spheres and quite heavy. Unscrewing them darkened the alleyway to dull gray. Only a faint glow from street lamps offered illumination, but he and Rocket saw just fine in the dimness.

He watched Rocket hurl each blue bulb into the red recycling dumpster at the end of the alley. They landed with hollow clunks that sounded like empty booze bottles. None broke until the grinder inside the dumpster reduced them to powder.

Suddenly, the dumpster emitted loud banging noises. The gasses in the light bulbs were reacting explosively with the traces of alcoholic liquid. Groot found great amusement in seeing the entire dumpster bounce.

"Shit!" Rocket snickered, "Run!" He pointed to the front of the hotel and Groot mustered what energy he could for a sprint.

"Stupid hooligans! They-- aw damn it! The lights are gone again!"

The utility door banged shut.

Rocket stopped running and slapped himself on the knees. Groot had to sit down on the ground until he regained control of his mirth. Rocket held up his hand once his amusement ceased. Groot placed his index finger against Rocket's tiny palm. They shook hands to complete the apology.

Turning away, Groot pressed his forehead to the hotel's front wall and hugged the data pad against his chest. Reality was pushing itself into his brain faster than he could keep making sense of it. The defenses he normally utilized were utterly spent and he lacked the energy to rebuild them. Everything seemed out of his control. Panic formed a tight gray knot in his chest that sent unpleasant sensations zipping along his nerves.

"You gettin' over-stimulated?" asked Rocket. A rhetorical question-- he already knew the answer.

Groot let out a soft whine. He sensed a whisper of movement followed by Rocket's weight hanging off his back piggyback style. The natural breaks in his bark provided perfect footholds for a raccoon to stand on.

Rocket started grasping and squeezing the individual vine fibers on Groot's shoulders and neck. Groot put the clear wrist coil in his mouth. He tried to match his chewing motions with Rocket's squeezes. Rocket tacitly picked up on it and adjusted his speed.

"Do you want your red chew tube?"

Groot shook his head with a grunt. He kept flexing the specific vine bundles he wanted Rocket to apply pressure to. All the tangled energy inside him transferred into Rocket's hands with every squeeze. Regaining control of his senses pushed reality back behind its proper barriers. The gray knot loosened without spreading through his nerves. He was safe.

At last, he relaxed.

"I ain't mad at you anymore," said Rocket, and his voice reflected this truth, "Looks like your little field trip beat you up pretty good anyway, so it's not like I need to make it worse by yellin' at you."

He sighed and leaned against the back of Groot's neck, "I'm glad you're okay, Groot."

Groot felt Rocket's heartbeat hammering away between his shoulders. He reached back to scratch his friend behind the ears.

"Bah, you're so mushy!" Rocket teased. He patted Groot's right shoulder, "C'mon, let's head in. I'll go ahead and tell 'em not to crowd you. Drax is gonna feed you something, so I hope you're hungry."

Smelling food usually cued hunger. Groot expected he'd want it once he caught a good whiff. He stood still while Rocket hopped off his back. Groot trailed him closely, keeping his eyes focused on his bushy ringed tail. The vine designs on the carpet vied for his attention. He acknowledged and rejected the extraneous visual noise.

"Hang tight, Groot," said Rocket.

"I am Groot?"

"You want me to send Quill out? Okay, whatever, lemme tell everybody to lay off first."

He stepped into the room and Groot heard his voice telling them not to get in his face or ask a million questions. Groot decided now was a good time to switch his data pad on.

Quill emerged looking exhausted. He still hadn't put on his trademark dark red leather jacket.

"Groot, I'm sorry. You went off because I scared you and--"

"I  _am_  Groot," Groot held up one finger. He lowered it and slid it around the touch screen to spell his thoughts out.

**I gets your patch medicines for you because not breathes feels very bad. I doesn't wants you to feels bad if you doesn't has to.**

With that, he freed the white box of Esonophite patches from the vines on his hip and held it out to Quill.

Quill's cheeks and nose turned briefly red. He shifted his weight and wiped aimlessly at his hair. Alien skin flushed for a lot of reasons-- embarrassment, sadness, happiness, excitement, euphoria, from being too warm, too cold, intoxication and sexual arousal. Sometimes, they experienced a mix of several, though the lack of pheromones let Groot eliminate one possibility right away.

"Thanks, Groot. Really," Quill murmured, "I appreciate this."

Groot didn't release the box when Quill grasped it. Quill looked up as if to ask why. Groot met his gaze because he'd earned this glimpse of his Spirit and let him take the Esonophite patches from his hand. He broke eye-contact long enough to type on his data pad again.

**You are welcomes, Stars-Dorks.**

Quill's half-smile became a bright, boyish grin-- a look of such honest gratitude that Groot couldn't help reflecting it back. He got a patch out of the box, pulled the collar of his shirt down and pressed it onto his shoulder. His breathing sounded rough again, like it did that morning in the bathroom.

Worried, Groot asked, "I  **am**   _Groot?_ "

"Yeah, I'll be-- hey, I think I understood you that time. I ain't Rocket, but...yeah, I definitely understood that. Gimme five for that one!"

Groot beamed happily. He slapped his palm down onto Quill's upturned one and immediately turned his own hand palm-up for Quill to repeat the gesture on him.

 _Giving five_  was a Terran celebratory exchange. Groot first experienced it after Quill successfully walked him through the  _Milano's_  takeoff procedure. He knew how to pilot a ship reasonably well. While he wasn't an impressive fighter pilot like Rocket, he could get a ship from point A to B once he figured out all its controls and someone prompted him through the takeoff procedures.

Groot didn't hold Quill's shock against him. People tended to act surprised when he utilized skills they didn't know he possessed. He was okay with expressions of amazement as long as nobody added the dreaded line,  _he does it so well **despite his disability**_. Anyone who said it meant well, however it carried the unspoken connotation that they had low expectations of his capabilities.

True, there were many things he  _couldn't_  do. His trek through the city brought him face to face with his physical and mental limits. A prompting program wasn't the same as a real, live person. He needed help. He would always need help. Having more limits than somebody else didn't make him any less of a person. How would he know what his limits were if he didn't find them himself?

Besides, he liked to think he was good at the things that really mattered-- like being a friend and a listener.

Quill's wheezy cough summoned Groot's mind into the present again.

"It'll take the patch about two hours to kick in. Then I'm gonna be back to my big, bad--" he wriggled his inhaler from his pants pocket and took a puff, "--self."

A frown creased Groot's brow. Peering at the data pad, he placed his fingertip on the screen and spent several moments putting his wordless thoughts into understandable words.

**Quill, you needs to tells them you has this asthmas things. I understands why you hesitates. You doesn't wants to be sees as different or treats as less, but you are not less because you has lungs that mess up sometimes just likes I am not less because I has neurology that mess up sometimes.**

Groot's peripheral vision caught Quill opening his mouth to protest. He ignored him while he completed his thought. Tiredness left his finger uncooperative, so typing took a frustratingly long time.

**You knows what to does for me when I gets my wrists abscess because Rocket tells you about my neurology and how to helps me not hurts myself. But what if you gets a very bad asthmas attacks and you doesn't has a patch? They should knows where you keeps your rescues medicines and how to gives them to you. Please tells the others so they can helps you likes you helps me.**

Now it became Quill's turn to frown. He glanced at the box of Esonophite patches, pocketed it and took another puff off his inhaler before putting it in the same pocket.

"You know what? You're right. You're absolutely right," Quill nodded towards the ajar hotel room door, "Go on in. Drax is making some kind of veggie stew to celebrate you coming back in one piece."

The salty scent wafted into the hall. Groot's stomach automatically sent hunger signals coursing through his body. He looked again at Quill.

"I'll be right there in a sec," said Quill.

Groot quietly slipped through the doorway. He heard it thump shut as Quill padded in behind him, setting his black bag on the floor beside the doorway.

Gamora looked up from her conversation with Rocket to wave. Her facial expression changed-- relaxed a little-- into what Groot recognized as relief.

"There they are," Rocket remarked.

Drax was bent over the single-burner stovetop cleverly tucked into a shelf. On it, he had a transparent soup pot full of something colorful and definitely not meat. Its base liquid appeared to be orange-red Krylorian tomato juice. Great gouts of scent wafted off it when he stirred the contents.

Groot's eyes went expectantly to the green hotel-issue bowls, so he didn't notice Drax turning until he heard his voice.

"Groot!" Drax lifted both hands and clapped them tightly onto Groot's shoulders in a way that felt soothing. His voice expressed delight, "Are you well after your journey?"

Nodding, Groot grunted and motioned to his data pad. Drax released his left shoulder and stood beside him to watch his finger glide along the screen. It looked effortless, but he put forth all his strength into landing on the right characters.

**I am very tires, but I am wells, yes. What are you cooks? It smells very goods!**

"I am preparing vegetable stew," answered Drax, "I prepared a similar feast for Hovat when she returned from a long journey, and likewise she prepared one for me for the same reason. It traditionally has meat, but I did not add it this time because I have no desire to make you ill."

He faced the stove again, "Excuse me, I need to keep stirring this."

Groot avoided watching Drax stir so he wouldn't get mesmerized by the swirling colors in the pot. He plopped onto the bed next to Gamora, amused by how the gold comforter made a poof noise.

"...the important thing is he is here now," Gamora was saying. She placed her hand gently on Groot's right wrist before looking up at him, "You had us concerned."

 **I am sorry,**  Groot's finger highlighted the letters and the data pad spoke his words as he typed them,  **I doesn't thinks it would takes until nights to gets to the _Milano_.**

"Then you learned something," she said, her tone firm without sounding angry.

He nodded once. She placed her hand in his and squeezed gently. He didn't feel pushed aside when she resumed speaking to Rocket because her holding his hand spoke only to him.

"The stew is ready," said Drax.

Everyone crowded around the too-small table Quill had pulled away from the wall. He also brought in the chairs from his room, Drax's room and Gamora's room, so everyone had a spot to sit. Groot found himself practically squatting on the ridiculously teeny chair with his knees visible above the table, however any discomfort he had was mitigated by seeing only Rocket's ears across the way. Rocket needed to stand up to get his chin over the tabletop.

Their gazes met. They snickered.

"Fuckin' hotel issue chairs are height-ist," Rocket grumbled. His nose twitched at the green bowl Drax set in front of him.

Soon, everyone had a bowl, spoon and paper napkins.

"I glued the hook back on the wall in my room," Quill remarked off-handedly. He grinned, "I don't want 'em charging us for vandalism."

Rocket looked at Groot. Groot looked at Rocket. They both remembered the blue lights and snickered.

"I am Groot," Groot spoke casually.

"Yeah," Rocket slurped some stew off his spoon, "It  _is_  a shame about those lights. Who would do something like that?"

They chortled amongst themselves.

Quill eyed them both. "I'm not gonna ask."

"Mmph," Drax busily scooped a spoonful into his mouth.

Groot got his fingers wrapped around his spoon. That became the moment his limbs ceased listening to his brain. Try though he might, he couldn't put the spoon into the bowl or lift it towards his mouth. His entire consciousness centered on withstanding sensory input. He sat there silently, staring at his steaming vegetable stew.

Drax didn't miss a beat, nor did he ask questions. He took the spoon from Groot's hand, dipped it into the stew and began to gently feed it to him. Groot accepted the delicious salty-sweet mixture. Gamora dabbed his mouth and chin with a napkin after he ate every tasty morsel. He bowed his head in a wordless show of thanks.

"Getting sleepy, Groot?" asked Rocket.

Groot's attempt to speak emerged as a monosyllabic grunt.

"Yeah. I got it. He's wiped out. Guys," Rocket made a nodding motion towards Groot.

Quill came around the table. Before Groot realized it he had Gamora under one elbow and Quill under another with Drax spotting from the back. Together, they assisted him out of the chair. They shuffled several steps in unison and guided him to sit on the floor between the bed and the window.

Gamora placed a pillow behind his back so he wasn't leaning on the bare wall. She smiled and rubbed his shoulder.

"I hope your dreams are pleasant."

Rather than wait for the response he couldn't give, she moved back to give Quill room.

"You gave it your all today," Quill remarked, "I really appreciate it, Groot."

Groot wanted to answer with a smile. His face wasn't cooperating and he settled for grasping Quill's wrist instead.

"Sleep as long as you need to, okay?" Quill patted his arm and rejoined the others.

Groot could still see and hear everything happening at the table. Everyone reclaimed their seats. Rocket leaned to the left and belched. Drax took that as an invitation to let one go himself.

"Tch, amateurs," scoffed Quill, "try this," and he showed off his impressive stamina.

Unable to resist, Groot added one that filled the room. It lasted longer than Quill's and had more volume than everyone else's burps combined. And that was without even trying.

Everybody at the table jumped. Quill cracked up and Drax offered applause. Rocket flashed a thumbs-up.

"Groot's gas can only go up. You idiots ain't got nothin' on him."

Pleased, Groot settled against the wall again.

"You are all  _excused_ ," Gamora sneered.

"Belching competitions were quite common back home," Drax commented, oblivious to Gamora's displeasure.

"What's wrong, Gams? Can't compete?" Rocket teased.

"No, but I have manners," she answered, rolling her eyes. Then she lowered her voice out of respect for Groot's growing somnolence, "Why did Groot venture out without informing us? Has he done this before?"

Rocket yawned, "Actually--"

"I...yeah...about that," Quill jumped on the answer, "hang on a sec. One sec...just a sec..."

He rummaged in the black bag and set his nebulizer in the middle of the table. Then he reached into his pocket and placed his inhaler and the box of Esonophite patches next to it.

"There's something you guys should know..."

.o

Swishing noises brought Groot out of a sound slumber. At first, he thought Quill was having another asthma attack. He leaned on the wall, listening, but heard only snoring.

Nobody pitied Quill when he told them about his asthma or its symptoms. There would likely be hiccups when dealing with it in the future. But Groot went through those same hiccups with his wrist infection and everything turned out fantastic. Surely the same held true for Quill.

The swishes happened again, followed immediately by growling and whinnying. Groot's sleepy eyes focused on the bed. Rocket bristled, snarled and clawed at the sheets. He only made those angry raccoon sounds during his nightmares.

A full minute passed. The disorganized shifting continued. Groot felt guilty. Running off the way he did triggered Rocket's complex post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms. Abandonment was something Rocket couldn't handle. He could fake it and appear to be fine. He could fake it so well he deserved acting awards, but the true effects reared their ugly heads as nightmares.

So Groot waited. Occasionally, bad dreams ended on their own without help. More growling issued from Rocket's maw. He grabbed at his own chest as if holding in his guts and whimpered pitifully.  _This_  nightmare wasn't letting up.

Rocket had a procedure for helping Groot protect himself during his self-injurious meltdowns. In the same vein Groot had a procedure for getting Rocket through his nightmares with minimal disruption to his sleep.

Groot reached under Rocket's armpits, carefully picked him up and pulled him close. He let his raccoon friend's cheek rest on his shoulder and supported his body against his chest with his forearm. Rocket snarled, viciously digging his claws into Groot's pectoral bark. Groot tensed, bearing the pain without a sound. He rumbled wordlessly and lightly patted his friend's back. The gesture looked exactly like a parent burping an infant after feeding.

Jerking Rocket awake scared him worse than the actual nightmares. He once mentioned the sense he noticed first when waking from sleep was smell. Groot discovered he could rouse him just enough to notice his scent without completely regaining consciousness.

Sometimes it took a few minutes for Rocket to exit a nightmare, but Groot was patient. He continued lightly tapping his back until he felt the tickle of a nose twitching. The claws digging into his bark let go and the whinnying snarls ceased. Groot's motions switched from patting to massaging. He knew Rocket was comfortable again when he heard his rattling raccoon purr.

Rocket curled up against Groot's shoulder. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked on them. Something about feeling safe in the realm between sleeping and waking took him back to his infancy. The contented slurps and purrs were much more peaceful than the frightened growls and whinnies.

Smiling, Groot nuzzled his cheek against the top of Rocket's head. He returned him to the bed when the slurps and purrs stopped. Rocket never remembered these tender moments upon waking, but Groot didn't mind because  _he_  did.

Soft breathing reassured him that Rocket wasn't lapsing into another nightmare. He changed positions to resettle against bed and quietly resumed his own slumber.

.o

 _One month later_...

Groot seated himself on the porous green rubber mat covering the  _Milano's_  silver vacuum toilet. There was no getting him over his fear of those horrible things, but the one in the  _Milano_  became tolerable when he couldn't actually  _see_  it. The non-slip mat didn't interfere with the drain grating in the corner behind him.

Dust had once again coated him, though not quite as badly as in the past. He asked for a shower because he didn't want to upset Quill's allergies.

Footsteps approached and the appropriate sponge and soap were set down next to him.

Groot reached for his data pad.

**Does you puts on your medicines patch?**

"Yup, right when I got up."

**Goods. I am ready now.**

With that, Groot slid the data pad away. Quill propped it against the wall outside the cubicle. He came back in, freed the shower nozzle from its clamp and switched on the water.

.o

.o

.o

_"...Tell me what you want to hear._  
_Something that will light those ears._  
_I'm sick of all the insincere,_  
_so I'm gonna give all my secrets away._  
_This time,_  
_don't need another perfect lie,_  
_don't care if critics ever jump in line._  
_I'm gonna give all my secrets away..."_

\--One Republic, "Secrets"

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's curious, [here's a raccoon making the noises Rocket makes in his sleep during nightmares](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0l54w49hzE).


End file.
